


Need To Run

by murphybabe



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murphybabe/pseuds/murphybabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the shooting in DIAG, Bodie decides that the best way back to fitness for his partner is through running.  The problem is that Doyle hates it - and Bodie's relentlessly cheery attitude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need To Run

 

As he watched the surgeon drop the second bullet into the stainless steel bowl, Bodie knew it would be a long haul back to fitness for Doyle.

As he helped him into the car from the hospital, he was already planning Doyle’s recuperation. Doyle was cheerful, and Bodie was optimistic. It would be fine.

As he helped Doyle back from the launderette, giving unobtrusive aid with a hand under his partner’s elbow, he realised that it might not be as easy as he’d hoped.

bdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbd

**Day 1**

‘Come on, Doyle. It’s a nice day, let’s get out into the fresh air. You know the best way to build up your stamina is running. Come on, mate, here’s your track suit. Now, where have you left your trainers?’

_Yeah. I can do that. Good idea, mate. Wonder how far I can go?_

… … …

‘Well, you can’t expect to run a marathon, can you? Easy steps, mate, easy steps. We’ll go again tomorrow.’

_Fucking pathetic, that was. Coughing my guts up after two minutes. Never really thought about fitness before, just took it for granted. And why do my bleeding legs hurt so much?_

**Day 6**

‘Morning, morning – rise and shine, it’s jogging time!’

_Piss off, Bodie. I don’t wanna go for a run. I can’t do it, it’s too hard. And you’re always so bloody cheerful, pottering along by my side like you’re looking after your granny on a Sunday outing._

**Day 11**

‘Eight minutes, mate – that was fantastic! You were really pushing yourself, an’ all, weren’t you? Well done.’

_You patronising bastard. Eight fucking minutes. At tortoise speed. I bloody hate this. And you._

**Day 13**

‘Come on, Doyle, just a bit further. See if you can get to the tree. I know it’s hard, but just keep those legs going. You can do it – go on!’

_What the fuck are you playing at, Bodie? This isn’t bloody kindergarten. You sound like a combination of Mary Poppins and that sadist of a physiotherapist. One’s bad enough, I don’t need it from my partner as well._

**Day 15**

‘Right, that’s it! I’ve had enough of you, you ungrateful little shit! Anyone’d think you don’t want help. Why is it you can’t admit it’s hard? Of course it’s bloody hard! You’re two months out of hospital and you expect to go bounding round like a gazelle? Well, I’ve got news for you, sunshine. You’re on your own, because I. Have. Had. Enough.’

_Bodie…_

**Day 23**

_I suppose he’s right, really. I need to build up slowly. I’ll go again. Dammit, even in a week I’ve lost condition. Just to that lamppost. Come on, Doyle, you can do this._

**Day 24**

_Alarm. Oh, fuck. Where’s me tracksuit?_

**Day 28**

_Hey, this is better. Might just push it a bit further. Wonder how Bodie’s doing?_

**Day 29**

_Legs like lead. Oh, it bloody hurts. I just can’t do it._

**Day 32**

_If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Which pillock was that? Bodie would know. I might ring him later, see if he wants to come out for a beer. Or a run. Wonder if he’d come with me again, or if I’ve finally pissed him off completely with all my moaning. I miss him._

**Day 37**

‘Bloody hell, Doyle, you’ve been working hard at this. That’s two miles, mate – right round the park and back. You’ll soon be back in Macklin’s sticky little clutches at this rate.’

_Macklin. Oh, great. A ten-mile run behind that ape Towser on that little Vespa. Yippee. Still, at least Bodie would be with me._

**Day 45**

‘How do you feel? Round once again and back for a hot shower? If you beat me, I’ll even wash your back for you, how’s that?’

_I feel all sorts of things, Bodie. Not sure about some of them. Not sure I’ll ever be able to tell you. Wish you would wash my back. And more. Hey, wait for me, you bastard! Wonder if I can beat you…?_

bdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbdbd

As he washed Doyle’s back in the shower, the suds streaming down to the firm buttocks Bodie had admired for so long, he stroked gently, reverently over the still-tender scars. Doyle turned towards him, laughing, and caught his partner in a strong embrace. Their mouths met greedily, and they kissed, thrusting against each other until the water ran cold.

As he patted Doyle dry with a towel, taking the opportunity to tease and torment his partner, friend and now lover, Bodie thought back to that first day out of hospital. Doyle’s body was still pale and the scars were still livid. The long thigh muscles were sculpted, however, and the flat belly and slim hips were firmly muscled. Irresistible.

As he lay flat on the bed, Doyle’s arm holding him down and Doyle’s mouth surrounding his cock with intense wet heat, Bodie thought how unbelievable it was that Doyle had come back after the shooting. Unbelievable that they had ended up here. Not unbelievable that they’d had their ups and downs during Doyle’s recovery, Doyle not being the most patient person on the planet and Bodie not willing to be taken for granted. But here they were. And as his body tensed and convulsed and flashed over the peak and into orgasm, Bodie knew that they were here to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Written a while ago, but posted here because of the Discovered in a LiveJournal challenge Discovered in A Marathon, on the occasion of the London Marathon.


End file.
